Remembrance
by Chapin
Summary: This story follows Series 6/Episode 8. It follows the Ellingham family through some 25 years of living and growing. It attempts to remain true to the canon of the show as well as pick up on names, events and themes from the Doc Martin FanFiction stories that have a common thread. There is no intent to plagiarize but to enhance and appreciate the work of good authorsl.
1. Chapter 1

**A note of explanation: **This story contains spoilers that reveal happenings from Season 6. What you are about to read tells of the Ellingham family from Louisa's surgery at the end of Season six through 25 or so years of living. The author attempts to remain true to the the six series that make up what we call The Canon. However there is a thread that runs through all of the good stories in FanFiction. I make no apology for reflecting on this in this story. To me it is my second canon. My intent is not to plagiarize. I hope you authors will take it as a compliment on your good ideas and fine writing - and of course your understanding of what happened that could not be covered in the brief television episodes.

**The characters, places and situations of Doc Martin are owned by Buffalo Pictures. This story places no claim of remuneration or ownership, nor do I make any attempt to infringe upon any rights of the owners or producers.**

**Thank you for reading. I do appreciate your reviews.**

REMEMBRANCE

CHAPTER ONE

"Mum, did you and Dad ever consider divorce?"

Joan and I had slipped down a side street a short walk from Sacre Coeur, wanting to distance ourselves from the crowds. The babel of voices tripping over the cobblestones made talking difficult. Add the noise of taxis and it was near impossible. The diminutive Cafe Alsace with its beautiful pastries was perfect. On our third day of a week-long mother-daughter pilgrimage to France, we had made our way to Montmartre. There was the smell of the rain-soaked pavement and the fresh feel of the spring afternoon with no demands on us. My mind had meandered to warm thoughts about the wedding and I was taking a bite of a scrumptious dark chocolate strawberry torte. Gosh, I thought, this is to be savoured, as I licked some whipped cream off the fork. Joan had said something and all I really heard was the word "divorce."

"What, Joanie? What was that?"

"You know Mum, did you and Dad ever think about divorce?"

I am certain many in our fishbowl village had wondered this about Martin and Louisa Ellingham, but my daughter was the first to say it in my presence.

"Where in the world did that come from? I think you know your dad and I are happy together."

"Yes. Yes. I know that, but many of my friends come from divided homes. When we were in school it was one week with mum and one week with dad. I always hated it when Kerra spent almost every holiday away from Portwenn. And now Eva and Alan's parents are going their separate ways. Mum, they have been married longer than you and Dad! Eva is so distraught and it really makes me sad for her, for all of them. I'm sorry Mum. I didn't mean to cast a dark cloud on our time together."

"Oh Joanie, if it's on your mind it deserves talking about. To settle your mind, no, we never considered divorce and you can be assured we are not going to. That said, you know we have talked a bit about this. Your father and I didn't have an easy time of it in the early years. We weren't two ships passing in the night. We were on two different seas. So much misunderstanding. I'll never forget the time I broke up with Dad and he proposed to me two days later. I was elated. Of course you know we didn't get married that time. Never got to the altar. Stood up the congregation really."

What I told Joan was true. We never did use the word divorce as a possibility or, God forbid, a threat. If it is only the stream with stones that sings, then the first year of our marriage was fortissimo and not always in tune. To maintain the metaphor, we often found ourselves in rapids with large rocks that threatened to do us harm.

I really did not want to reveal to Joan how hard it truly was.

I recalled one evening when I cried uncontrollably and beat on Martin's chest. "Martin, how many chances will we have for love in this life? I am 37. You are 44. You tell me you love me and damn Martin I can assure you that I love you. Do you think this happens every day? I want to make this work. I will do whatever I can to make our being together good."

Words have never been easy for Martin. That's not completely true of course. If he can analyze it medically, the words flow. In matters of the heart, he is King George before Lionel Logue. I did not know what to expect. That night he embraced me and held me tightly as if I would disappear if he let go. The only words from his mouth were, "I am so sorry, Louisa," and "You are my life," but his word without words continued when I looked into his face. There was fear and sadness and concern and yes...love. His eyes were red, welling with tears. The truth of it is, that night's experience carried us over shoals that have upset many a marital boat. The other miracle that happened that night was that our dear son stayed asleep and the phone did not ring.


	2. Chapter 2

**REMEMBRANCE CHAPTER TWO by Chapin**

**The Characters, places and situations of Doc Martin are owned by Buffalo Pictures. This story makes no claim of remuneration or ownership, nor do I make any attempt to infringe upon any rights of the owners or producers.**

**Careful - there are spoilers for Season Six**

**Thank you for reading. I welcome your reviews and input**.

CHAPTER TWO

"I love chocolate and strawberries."

"Mum, you love chocolate and anything. I am surprised you have not served us pickles dipped in chocolate. I guess you would have if Dad did not play the food governor."

"Well your dad has softened his ways. He hid my McVities once. Just once mind you. That brought on the fireworks."

We both enjoyed a good laugh over that and then Joan asked me, "OK Mum it didn't happen the first time. What happened to make it work? You did have a wedding!"

"Well of course Joanie. The pictures are on the wall, aren't they? But I'll tell you what happened. James happened. We might have just thrown it all over and thought it not worth the effort, but having a child changed everything. I will never forget the afternoon your father brought Auntie Joan to the hospital to see the baby.  
I will never, never forget her words.

"He's the best mistake you two have ever made. So for goodness sake sort something out between the two of you to give this little lad the family he deserves. Otherwise I shall just have to knock your two heads together."

Suddenly the muscles in my tear ducts became involuntary and began releasing their contents onto my cheeks. Perhaps it was bringing our sweet Aunt Joan to mind. What I really knew it to be was the overwhelming visceral response of my whole being to the thought of all we could have missed. The warmth of that spring day in Paris could not prevent a palpable chill from coursing through my body.

"Mummy. I'm sorry. I really am."

"It's fine Sweetheart. We did make it to the altar and way beyond, didn't we?  
And you know what? It wasn't because we had to. It was because we wanted to. We did love each other. We deeply wanted James to have a mum and a dad together, really together, not just living in the same house.

"Don't get the idea everything came up roses. That first year was so hard, but we managed it and it became easier. We did not have some weird conversion. Your father can still crawl inside himself and clam up and I can be obstinate and overreact. We had to have some basic understandings. I don't know why storms arise more at night, but they do. Your dad was perfectly capable of going to sleep right in the middle of an argument and awaken as if nothing had happened. And me, I am lying on a bed of potatoes and not able to sleep. I insisted that no one sleeps until there is a basic settling of the issue or mutually laying it to rest, agreeing to talk about it again. It became a firm rule. That one understanding has helped us more than you can ever imagine. You know of course that many a night I have to tell your dad that we are not going to sleep yet."

"Mum, how in the world did you ever get together? Seems like if you were magnets, you repelled more than attracted."

"Well, sweetheart, I can't explain it, but there was a spark, a really strong attraction. Because of that, we went through all the emotions that people with smooth courtships go through. That fire between us made us miserable when we were apart and jealous of the thought of the other being with anyone else. And when we were together Martin would say, "I don't understand you," and I would often say, "Why do you do that?" after he did something to totally offend me.

"You have to understand, your dad and I brought more suppressed emotional baggage into our relationship than will fit in the boot of his big car. You don't know the whole story but you know enough to know that it is true. This cafe does not have enough desserts to get us through all that story this afternoon, or to endure a vision of Dad's raised eyebrows if we tried. Look Joanie, know that I have never doubted your father's love and care. And I want to assure you he has never had a reason to doubt mine for him.

"One of the hardest challenges in life is for two people to learn to live and love together day in and day out for a lifetime. It's really hard, but Joanie, it is worth it, because it's one of the most wonderful gifts in life to be with someone like your dad. Sure things happened that could have caused us to consider divorce. They happen in every relationship. Your parents are flawed in many ways, far from perfect, except for one thing. Your dad is perfect for me and he told me once that I was perfect for him. I was having a low time of insecurity and your dad said,'Louisa, there may be many perfect women in this world, but you're the only one who is perfect for me.'"

"Dad really said that?"

"Yes. Yes he did. I know his mind can short-circuit and he can come out with hurtful or embarrassing comments. But there are three times your father can actually say what's on his heart. One is when he is under emotional stress. Two is when he has had a good bit of wine. And, believe it or not, three is when he picks up his pen and writes. His written words are amazing at expressing what his tongue cannot get out. I've never thrown away the letters and poems he has written me."

"Poems?"

"Yes, Joanie, poems!"

And warmth returned to our spring day as I recalled his words,

I awoke one day  
Not to the eastern sun  
But to your presence  
That filled forever my empty night


	3. Chapter 3

REMEMBRANCE CHAPTER THREE by Chapin

The Characters, places and situations of Doc Martin are owned by Buffalo Pictures. This story makes no claim of remuneration or ownership, nor do I make any attempt to infringe upon any rights of the owners or producers.

Careful - there are spoilers for Season Six

Thank you for reading. I welcome your reviews and input.

CHAPTER THREE

Joan had no idea what her simple question about divorce would evoke. This amazing woman sitting across the small table from her was a wonderful mother and was more and more becoming a close friend and confidant. Talk of her parents' journey made her grateful for her family. There was much comfort in what her Mum had said, but there was a fear that still gnawed deep within her.

"Thank you, Mum, for that. I wish it helped me fear the future less. How can you know when you have found the right person?"

"Don't spend your life looking for "Mr. Right," Joan. Instead focus on being the right person. You are not a shallow person. You have insight and discernment. Trust what we and others have given you. Our family faced more than our share of hard times, and we faced them together. You will have bumps in your road. Some you will of necessity face alone and sometimes you can share the burden. But believe me when I tell you that you have what you need. You will be fine, kid.

"And now I suggest that you cut into that poached pear or the whipped cream around it is going to be missing."

The waitress suddenly appeared.

"Voulez-vous un autre café?"

"Oui, s'il vous plaît, et aussi je voudrais une deuxième poires pochées au vin blanc avec chantilly."

"Oui, bien sùr."

"Merci."

"You know I do not usually have this stuff on my mind. This first year of veterinary training is a bit overwhelming, but I do not want to think about that now. What shall we do tomorrow?"

My mobile was buried in my purse but I thought I heard it ring. I hurried to get to it before they rang off. "It's Dad. Hello Dad."

"Joan. I couldn't reach you earlier so wanted to try again. Are you and your mum alright? No problems there I hope."

"Not at all. Right now we are enjoying time together in a small cafe. Tonight we are invited to supper with Monsieur et Madame Llompart. I am really glad Mum will get to meet them. They were so kind to me."

"You do know I worried about you every day of that term you were in Paris?"

"Dad, Monsieur Llompart was more protective of me than you would have been. Well maybe not. I'm not sure that's possible, is it? I love you Dad."

"Yes. Don't forget, you are my girl."

"I will always be your girl. Would you like to talk to Mum?"

"Hello Martin."

"Louisa, Joan says you are enjoying yourselves. Please be careful. I hope you are taking cabs and not the Métro. You know I miss you."

"Yes I do Martin. And I miss you. I always feel half there when we are apart like this, but the time with Joanie is really good. We'll be late tonight so we can talk tomorrow if you like."

"Yes, fine. But will you message me when you are safely back in your hotel tonight?"

"Of course. Have you seen my dad?"

"He was at the market earlier. Said with all the good weather, he had been working in his garden. He seemed fine to me. I love you Louisa."

"Yes my dear Martin. I love you."

"Don't forget to text me! Good-bye."

"Bye bye Love."

"Oh Joan, here's our coffee. And what's this? Another poached pear?"

"Out of self defense. Enjoy as much as you want. Dad always worries about us, doesn't he?"

"Yes, he does Joan. He always has. But you do know that is not the main reason he called today, don't you?"

"So why did he call?"

"Your dad hates being alone. He was alone for 40 years. But once we were married he didn't like us to be apart, especially at night. When I had teacher conferences away, he would call daily at least. Once, after I returned from a conference I realized he had switched our pillows."

"But Dad's not romantic. Not like that. How did you know?"

"Because I keep a tissue in my pillow. And he does not. And don't sell your dad short. There was a time when we was absolutely and totally inept in a relationship. At that time his photo was next to "clueless" in the dictionary.

"But that was before. Over the years, he has become a very caring man. Even now he can stumble with words but his every action is care and love."

"I know you're right Mum, but you know I remember when I cared for Mrs. Bosanko's children I even saw Mr. Bosanko pat her on the bum sometimes."

"Joan, let me assure you that behind closed doors your father has always paid proper attention to your mother's bum. And that is all you need to know about that, young lady!"


	4. Chapter 4

**REMEMBRANCE CHAPTER FOUR by Chapin**

**The Characters, places and situations of Doc Martin are owned by Buffalo Pictures. This story makes no claim of remuneration or ownership, nor do I make any attempt to infringe upon any rights of the owners or producers.**

**Careful - there are spoilers for Season Six**

** Thank you for reading. I welcome your reviews and input.**

** "**Now that's weird. A shop with dead rats in the window."

We were walking back to our hotel. It was such a pristine day and the walk would do us good, though it turned out to be more of a trek than we anticipated. For awhile we looked in shop windows and watched the Parisians enjoying their week-end. Somewhere along the route my mind began to wander again. All of a sudden there was a store with rats hanging in the display window. Seeing that brought me back to the present. The sign over the door said _Julien Aurouze & Co., Destruction des Animaux Nuisibles._ "Mum, it's a pest exterminator. The sign reads 'The Destruction of Unwanted Animals.'" If it had been James with me, the rats would have drawn him through the door. For Joan and me, it was soon far behind us - as was my paying attention to Joan's going-on about French fashion.

The conversation in the cafe had opened the gates of memory.

I vividly remember awakening in the hospital following my brain surgery. Recalling the terrible night and my resolve to not go away. I wondered in the light of day if I could carry through with it. Martin, with uncertain eyes on me, spoke first.

"Louisa. How are you feeling?"

"I think I'm OK Martin. I feel a bit woozy but not too bad. Can I go home today?"

"Yes, you should be able to. If you would like to go back to the surgery I can stay out at the farm or in a hotel. I do hope you will reconsider your resolve to go to Spain. I told you once I could not bear to be without you. Louisa, that is more true now than ever."

"Oh Martin I hear your words, but do you realize I feel rejected. It really hurts my soul. I can't stand it. Do you remember the day I brought our breakfast to your office so we could be together? Do you? You handed me the tray and sent me away. I cried until I was physically ill."

It troubled me greatly to cause the pain I saw on Martin's face, but this was not a time to mince words. I knew, and Martin had to know this was life and death for us. We were at a breaking point and I had to know what had brought on his isolation since our wedding.

"Martin, I'm not sure I make you happy. Am I really good for you? Something is wrong, terribly wrong. I mean wrong with you Martin. You are completely self-absorbed. You will not talk with me about it. What are you keeping from me? Are you seriously ill? I fear I am responsible for your haemophobia. I cannot take more of the way it has been. Can you see that? Do you even know what I am talking about? Surely you cannot feel good about the past few weeks. Martin. _Martin_!"

"Louisa, after you left in the taxi I was so disoriented I could not even deal with patients. I actually gave a patient the wrong medication. In desperation I drove to the farm and talked with Aunt Ruth. I am terribly frightened Louisa. I must make changes. When you were falling asleep with the anesthetic I told you I need you to help me learn. Please Louisa. I do love you and I want to be with you and James."

I made a mental note to talk with Ruth. Perhaps she could help me understand - not just Martin but understand myself. I firmly told Martin, "Thank you Martin, but I have to know if you are willing to tell me what is wrong. Will you tell me what Ruth told you? Once you told me, 'I don't really talk.' That won't work anymore. You have to really talk!"

Suddenly, I heard Joan's voice.

"Mum, you're a million miles away. You have hardly said a word since we left the cafe. I've really upset you, haven't I?"

"No Joan. I'm not upset, but our conversation triggered memories. Not all of them are pleasant, but they have a very good ending and you are much a part of that beautiful ending Sweetheart. We have a bit of time so lets bathe and lie in a bit before we go out."

The walk from Montemartre was longer than we anticipated so thus a bit tiring.  
Arriving back at Novotel Les Halles we did lie down for awhile. Thankfully it was was three hours before Monsieur Llompart was to pick us up. Drifting into a nice nap I recalled the continuing conversation that I had with Martin when we left the hospital.

In hospital Martin had left his emotional door ajar and knowing how quickly it could close I decided to push him a bit.

"What did Ruth tell you Martin?"

"Well, she had several comments Louisa."

"Fine. _One_, Martin. Tell me one thing that she told you."

I knew this would not be easy and we were not going to resolve much this afternoon but endearing comments had to be concretized into clear thoughts and words that really would help us. In uni when someone looked as uncomfortable as Martin we used to say they were sweating like a pregnant nun. But the crack in his armour was still there. "One thought Martin. Just one. What did Ruth tell you?"

Finally he spoke.

"She told me I should surely know that the physical symptoms I have exhibited recently are not a medical issue. She believes they flow from my mind and emotions."

I had to push him. "Good Martin. Now, do you believe your aunt?"

"She said if I wasn't willing to change I should - well she actually said, "...if you're not willing to do that, then leave the poor girl alone."

"Martin, I am not a poor girl and I do not want to be left alone, but as I told you continuing as we have been will destroy us. I simply cannot take it. I just can't" My eyes were welling with tears as I said this.

"Aunt Ruth does not believe we can solve our problems by ourselves."

I thought to myself that should be obvious to a blind pensioner. "And..."

"She is willing to suggest a therapist who could assist me."

It struck me to tell Martin this was not just his issue to solve. His isolating himself in working this out would just be more of the same, leaving me out of the equation. I was glad to know he would consider counseling.

"Not just you. Me. Us. We must work on this together. Surely you know I do not bring a blank page to our relationship. I do not know where this will lead but if you take Ruth's suggestion, will you include me? I promised to stick by you for better and worse, and Martin, it has to get better."

"Louisa, I must repeat what I said, I need your help. I hear what you are saying. I am trying to make sense of it. I will promise to give our marriage and life together paramount attention."

"Alright, my husband. I miss our son and I am weary of speaking of this now. I know you must be. You are not going to the farm! Take me home."

We were crossing the moor and slowed for a turn. I asked Martin to stop the car. He did and asked what was wrong, thinking I was feeling ill, perhaps something from the surgery. I looked at his beautiful eyes and placed my hand behind his neck, assuring him I was fine. I just stared into his eyes and pulled him to me into a deep and tender kiss. I allowed my lips to communicate the feelings of my heart and my thankfulness for his telling me what he did. He responded in kind and it was a mutual communication of acceptance and peace. That depth of feeling carried us to our son and to our home and allowed us an evening together that I hoped so much would be the first of many like it.


	5. Chapter 5

**CHAPTER FIVE REMEMBRANCE**

**The Characters, places and situations of Doc Martin are owned by Buffalo Pictures. This story makes no claim of remuneration or ownership, nor do I make any attempt to infringe upon any rights of the owners or** producers.

**Careful - there are spoilers for Season Six**

**Thank you for reading. I welcome your reviews and input.**

**CHAPTER**** FIVE**

"I actually gave a patient the wrong medication."

It had been a few days since our return home from hospital. Martin was being very cautious with me. He did not even want me to lift James for a few more days. I knew he was truly caring for me and I tried to keep the belligerence binned and do what he asked. He was being cautious, too, in trying not to offend. We both knew the road before us was clouded with uncertainty and I suppose we were both walking on "pins and needles" as they say.

I was lying in bed having returned after breakfast and getting James Henry down for a nap. Martin was busy with patients and rather than sleeping, my eyes were carefully scanning the room as I tried to sort things in my mind. I very successfully noted every small crack in the plaster and the thread patterns on the quilt. But when it came to sorting things the vision blurred considerably. Martin had told me on the trip home from hospital that after I left in the taxi he became so confused he gave a patient the wrong medication. Then I recall he told me he abandoned Morwenna and patients and drove to the farm to talk with Ruth. At that point one resolve did become as clear as the cracks on the ceiling. I had to speak with Ruth.

My eyes wandered to the blue sky outside and two seagulls floating on the wind as I slipped into a restful sleep.

Ruth Ellingham was not as demonstrative as her sister, and there were no casseroles from that quarter. But she left no doubt that she was a caring and loving person, despite the Ellingham facade. She had really taken to James. She came every day to check on us so I had asked her if we could visit a bit after James went down for his afternoon nap. Martin would be busy with patients and that would give us time and privacy.

It was Tuesday and finally the stars aligned so Ruth and I could visit. It was a comfort that there was one in whom I could confide; someone who truly understood. Given that, it was a most relaxed atmosphere. So with a pot of wonderful Yorkshire Red on the table, we talked.

I told Ruth of Martin's and my conversation on the way back from Truro. With that I jumped in to the thick of it.

"Ruth, I believe Martin and I both want to make our marriage work, but making that happen is a different kettle of fish." My mind had an image of a ship frozen in ice.

Lip in mouth I suddenly was searching for what to say. Why? After all, here was the person I hoped could help free our ship. "I just do not know where else to turn. Please tell me why Martin seems so distant since our wedding. He asked me to help him change. How can I help him if I don't know what is going on? I feel like a child at the board doing maths asked to solve an equation. The only problem is that on the board is a problem with most of the facts missing, just a few numbers and symbols. So much is at stake Ruth. Can you give me the missing facts?" I wondered if my face showed the turmoil I was feeling in my gut.

Ruth took a drink of her tea, set the cup on the table and put her hands over her face. I wondered what that was about. She looked at me very directly and said, "Oh my, Louisa. This is not easy for me. I care deeply for you and Martin. I hope you are not expecting me to tell you what must come from him.

"I love my nephew, and you must know what he told me was not unknown to me. It would have been worthless had I brought it up to him. We _are_ Ellinghams, Louisa. Last week it was a fearful little boy who came to me with tears in his eyes. He wants help Louisa but he is fearful he is destined for disappointment. And in my opinion, his fear is not unfounded. You cannot imagine what he has been through."

"Oh, Ruth what am I to do? You know how hard it is for him to talk! I must know why he is isolating himself from me emotionally. I even told him that he seems to be rejecting me."

"Well there you are. I believe that Martin feels he does not deserve you. I know that sounds absurd, but he has lost so much in life, or never had it, that he feels even if something good comes, it will go away. His greatest fear, Louisa, is that he will lose you and James. Losing the ability to do surgery pales in significance to this, believe me. And he is pushing you away. His inner conflict is so great he is physically ill."

"Oh bloody hell Ruth and what do I do? I fulfill his fear by fleeing to my mother in Spain. I love him so much." A sip of tea did nothing to calm my anxiety. "How could I be so stupid? I am determined but I feel so helpless."

Ruth looked very strained and I waited for her answer. "Louisa it will take that and more; possibly more patience and forbearance than you think you have. But I hope you do know the value of the effort. You are an extraordinary person Louisa and you know how special Martin is. You know some of his home background, but I doubt you know all of the hurt and abuse he suffered at the hands of others. Do you know how rare it is for someone to recover from that in a way that allows them to actually contribute to society? I have worked with hundreds who have had to be imprisoned to protect themselves and others. Many of them endured far less than Martin endured as a child. You must understand that the only way he could survive was to build a an impregnable wall around himself. Do you realize the risk he takes in allowing that wall to fall? You are one of three people who has ever glimpsed behind that fortress? He trusts you Louisa.

"Now, I have assured Martin that he cannot resolve all of this by himself. I have recommended a very good therapist to him who hopefully can assist him in getting beyond this impasse."

I thought that I probably did not realize the full implications of what Ruth was telling me. I pushed with her that I did not think Martin should isolate himself in his healing. "Ruth it seems that I should be involved to some extent in this counseling. I have issues that obviously need to be resolved." I hoped my honesty would help Ruth be more open with me.

And there was Ruth's trademark crooked smile. "Yes, of course Louisa. Like Martin you have hidden your demons behind a very successful career and I do not know you like I know him. I imagine, like our Martin you have pushed the football under the water a long way."

Hiding my demons? What demons? Football in the water? "Ruth, what in the world are you talking about?"

"Push a football underwater Louisa. Keep pushing. The deeper you push it, the higher it will fly when you release it. You have witnessed this with Martin, haven't you? Now, are you able to see it in yourself? Surely you are not so naive as to think you have missed this with your issues of abandonment, mistrust and insecurity.  
Yes, yes, _YES_ Louisa, you must be involved in this resolution."

Maybe it was my pride, but I had not thought my issues as severe as Martin's.  
Ruth implied that I had a good bit of healing to undergo. Well, I asked for her help and it would be very stupid to ignore her.

Ruth continued, "But you realize this will be a long process and the crux of it is Martin being willing to truly share who he is with you. And you, of course, must be willing to share your life's journey with him. It may be that your doing that first will help him open up to you. This will be by fits and starts and progress will be slow, but it can happen because you do love each other. Martin asked for your help. Do you realize how amazing that is?"

"Ruth, I just want to be happy."

"Well, sorry Louisa, but in the words of Inigo Montoya, 'Get used to disappointment.' Happiness is not a destination. So many make the mistake of thinking they will be happy when they get the perfect job or find the perfect partner.  
Tell me dear, have you not shared any happy moments with Martin.?"

My mind went to the few times when we had been alone with no interruptions and no prompts for medical interpretation. I remembered the wonderful day Martin asked me to marry him and that same night when our sweet son entered our lives.  
Yes, that night and the days following I was very happy. "Oh, yes Ruth! We have had our happy times!"

"And did they last, Louisa? Were you in a state of ongoing happiness?"

"Well, no, of course not. You know all of our ups and downs."

"Well alright. Do you see? Happiness comes and goes. I believe if you think of it that way, you will be happy more often. Seek happiness for Martin. Seek to be content with him in working through all this mess."

It was such a help to listen to this wise woman. She had stopped and become very introspective. In fact the Ellingham persona did not seem very intact. She was staring out the window and seemed to have forgotten that I was even in the room.

"Ruth! Ruth, what is wrong? You seem troubled."

"Oh nothing really. I'm alright Louisa."

"Ruth, come on. You are family. And that is an easy stoic Elllingham answer. I see pain in your eyes." It seemed to me our whole conversation was affected by emotions surfacing in Ruth's mind.

"Louisa, people think that psychiatrists have it all together. They come to us for answers for their problems. If you want advice Louisa, ask Bert or Mrs. Poustie or any of your friends or colleagues. We shrinks don't have answers, and would not give them if we did. If we are true to our calling we guide discovery. But I digress. We are human Louisa with all of the issues of the rest of the population. Did you know psychiatrists have a higher rate of suicide than other medical specialities? The simple truth Lousia, and I am so thankful we are family, the simple truth is that being with you today is causing me to relive a time in my life when I had many moments of happiness. I was moving toward contentment and it gradually collapsed and disappeared."

"Oh, Ruth. What happened? I am so sorry to have resurrected all of this in your heart. What in the world happened?"

Ruth's lips trembled and I swear I saw tears in her eyes.

"_Hamish_ Louisa, _Hamish happened!"_


	6. Chapter 6

**CHAPTER SIX REMEMBRANCE**

**The Characters, places and situations of Doc Martin are owned by Buffalo Pictures. This story makes no claim of remuneration or ownership, nor do I make any attempt to infringe upon any rights of the owners or producers.**

**Careful - there are spoilers for Season Six**

**Thank you for reading. I welcome your reviews and input.**

**CHAPTER** **SIX**

After her outburst, Ruth and I sat in silence for what seemed like an an eternity. She could not speak as she was weeping silently. Her shoulders shook as she cried. In shock I could not say a word and I realize now, would not; out of respect; perhaps out of empathy. I had taken her hand which squeezed mine forcefully.

Finally in a very quiet voice she said, "I had a chance for life with someone I loved, Louisa. I made choices that destroyed that chance. I do not want that to happen to you and Martin. Maybe it won't work, but if you fail to give it the effort it deserves you will regret it forever. I am sorry for this Louisa. Today is about your issues and not about my past."

"Oh no, Ruth. I just regret that this has brought up bad memories for you."

"In many ways, Louisa, they are good memories. They simply ended badly. I simply put my education and career ahead of what could have been a lifetime with a person I loved very much. Hamish was my soulmate. I was very intellectual and he was a free spirit. He was an artist and became a teacher of sculpture at Cambridge."

Now I had become curious and James Henry was cooperating so I had to know more. "But Ruth, I don't understand. A teacher and a physician. That _can _work, can't it?"

"Well, of course it can Louisa, but not when the teacher is studying in Scotland and the physician is at Kings College. You would not understand loyalty to family Louisa. I foolishly followed my father's insistence where I would study. Hamish and I drifted and then he met Wei Ting. Ironically Louisa, she was an obstetrician. They married and had three daughters. I have only wished him every happiness.

"But no more about that Louisa! Are you listening to me because I have something I want to you hear and I have _never _been more serious in my life."

I was expecting some great psychological insight; some great wisdom from this psychiatric sage. "Of course Ruth. What?"

"There is something you must do immediately. You must nail your foot to the floor. No solo trips to Spain in your future!"

Both of us laughed. But we both knew it was not really a flippant comment. Ruth wanted Martin and me to give our marriage every chance to be a lifetime event. And now because of her kind candidness I understood why.

"Oh Ruth, thank you. You have no idea what it means for you to have come today. I love you Ruth and I thank you for your kindness and frankness. As I grew up here in Portwen, your sister Joan was like a mother to me. Losing her was an indescribable sadness. Seems like every Ellingham I have met has been a needed gift."

Ruth chuckled and said, "Well, Louisa I could introduce you to some relatives that would negate that statement. But I do thank you for it and I appreciate you including me in your family. I love James Henry so much."

"Well Ruth, by their own actions James' biological grandmothers have abdicated, haven't they? _Granny Ruth_! I quite like the sound of that. Speaking of gifts. Your being his grandmother is a true gift to James. What do you think?"

As I watched her lovely face, it was much more peaceful and perhaps tinged with a bit of joy. Then her beautiful eyes began to tear up again. I am afraid I could but respond in kind and the water flowing over the dam gave way and the dam broke. We embraced each other and just bawled. I am so glad Martin wasn't around to speak of female hormones. We gradually settled and looked again at each other.

Ruth finally spoke. "Oh my, Louisa. Nothing like that to clear the sinuses."

At that point James began to awaken. I told Ruth she should go and bring him.  
She returned with my son snuggled into her neck, not quite awake yet. She sat back down and rubbed his back. He actually fell back asleep.

Looking at me again Ruth quietly said, "Louisa, you asked me what you should do. In answering that, may I ask you some questions?"

"Of course. I welcome anything from you."

"When Martin is not aware you are watching, what is he like with James Henry?

"He is so tender and gentle. I catch him just staring at him in wonder. One night I came home to find him reading to him from the British Medical Journal of all things. James had the biggest smile on his face."

"Has Martin ever shown his vulnerable side with you? Have you ever seen his tears?"

"Yes, Ruth, actually I have seen him weep almost without control. I didn't know how to console him."

"Do you trust him?"

"Totally."

"Do you respect him?"

"Ruth when you know this man how could you not respect him? I have never met anyone with a stronger duty of care."

"What if Martin is not as demonstratively romantic as you might wish or as a model husband you have held in your dreams?"

"I will never again look for the perfect man. Hard to do when you see your own imperfections, isn't it? Perhaps Martin is perfect for me. I truly hope so. Ruth I have seen him be tender and romantic. Only moments of course, but I was warmed by those moments."

"You have to decide Louisa, but I believe you have your answer."


	7. Chapter 7

**CHAPTER SEVEN REMEMBRANCE**

**The Characters, places and situations of Doc Martin are owned by Buffalo Pictures. This story makes no claim of remuneration or ownership, nor do I make any attempt to infringe upon any rights of the owners or producers.**

**Careful - there are spoilers for Season Six**

**Thank you for reading. I welcome your reviews and input.**

**CHAPTER SEVEN**

"Martin, I think I may be pregnant!"

I was sitting in our living room awaiting a message from Louisa that she and Joan had returned to their hotel. I usually would have been in bed and was sleepy but I wanted to know they were safe for the night. For much of my life I preferred solitude. Sartre's "Hell is other people," made sense to me. But now, years down the road, I hated being alone. In no way do I regret Louisa and Joan making this trip together, but their absence makes me feel empty. Of course Joan is away in her studies and James is married now. That somehow makes him more distant, even though he and Emily are not that far away. They are creating their own directions in life.

I had been reading the most recent BMJ but frankly had lost interest. "Children living near fast food outlets in England are more likely to be overweight, study shows." What peabrain genius figured that out? I had laid my head back. Being somewhere between awake and asleep my mind drifted to our daughter, actually the day we learned she was on the way into our lives.

The call from Louisa on that Wednesday lunch break registered a 6.5 on my Richter scale. A massive earthquake is the only way I can describe how the news hit me.

"Why Louisa? If your period is a bit late, there could be any number of reasons - a thyroid issue, or being distraught or excessive exercise. We could run some tests."

"Martin, do you have a pregnancy test there?"

"Well, yes, but..."

"Good, I will be there before your patients return. That is the only test I want today."

And in an instant that cool autumn day we were looking at two distinct red lines in the window of the test wand, clear evidence that human chorionic gonadotropin was being secreted by a fertilized egg. What we felt at that moment can only be compared to a seismic tremor, a major one. We had found an even keel in our relationship and our family. Our son James Henry was getting close to four and was a delight to us. Given our ages we had decided that we would be grateful for the gift of James to us and not have any more children.

"Martin, how? I have an IUD. What will we do? Martin, _Martin_, say something!"

"Well Louisa if you are pregnant, and the test seldom lies, I believe we can speak in the past tense. You _had _an IUD."

I do not know how we got through that afternoon. That night was one of uncertainty and fear and wondering what the future would be. In the back of our minds was our ages and the possible risks of a pregnancy at this point in our lives. Ultimately the weight of emotion caused Louisa's tears to flow and I tried to hold her and assure her, but to no calming effect.

"Pregnant Martin. _Pregnant!_ Another baby. When I was younger I thought I wanted a lot of children, but I have long since binned that idea. What will we do?"

My mind was reeling but I had to maintain my composure. No need for both of us to be expressing our emotions right now. Ever the pragmatist I moved to logic. "Alright Louisa. There are two things that must be done. Tomorrow I will call Charles Stewart and make you an appointment. We will confirm if this is so and we will then do everything necessary to insure your well being and that of the baby."

"Just like that Martin. Call the doctor, make an appointment, have a baby. It sounds like you're telling someone to take a paracetomal or apply a plaster. I know you too well. Your mind has got to be a jumble of conflicting thoughts. Come on now. I can't stand not knowing how you really feel."

"Alright Louisa. You're right of course. This is a shock. Not something we expected or could predict. We were taking appropriate precautions. But I say that the most important thing to do is deal with the situation and do what needs to be done. I do not know when our emotions will catch up with that. I said there were two things that must be done immediately. I will call the doctor, but I believe you should call Natalie. We do not want to tell another soul of this, but it may be helpful if you talk with her."

Natalie was the wife of Luk Jacobs who was the vicar at our local parish for some seven years. They had since moved to a church in Connecticut so that their daughter could be closer to grandparents. Louisa had told me more than once that Natalie was the best friend she had ever had. Even with an ocean between them they still talked almost weekly. Their daughter, Emily, was the same age as James and Louisa had told me some months ago that Natalie and Luk were expecting another child.

I pushed Louisa to call Natalie. "The house is quiet. James is sleeping. Go sit in your quiet place and give her a call. Oh, and tell her to give Luk my regards." Surprisingly, and I suppose ironically, Luk and I had developed an affinity for each other during his time here in Portwenn.

It was after ten o'clock when Louisa came to the sitting room where I had gone to wait for her. It gave me time to think on all this too. Louisa appeared and looked visibly more peaceful. She came over to me and sat on my lap, put her arms around me and kissed me.

"I love you Martin. Thank you for urging me to call Natalie. We will be alright, won't we?"

"Of course we will Louisa."

"Natalie was over the top about my being pregnant. With her excitement it was hard to not have a bit of it creep into my heart. She really tried to get me to be at peace about it and allow the reality to settle in without going over the next nine months - or nine years - in my mind tonight. And she said we must take a picture of the baby at the birth as the child will likely be waving an IUD."

"Well, that's not possible. You likely passed it without ... Oh, wait. A joke, right? Always slow on the uptake, Louisa."

With another kiss she said, "Martin I would not want you any other way. Do you think you can deal with a pregnant woman for nine months?"

"Well, Louisa, do you think you can deal with the husband of a pregnant woman for nine months? I want to monitor you closely and care for you. I believe patience may be required all around. And while you were on the phone I was thinking about James. We must be certain he is included and nurtured through all of this."

I think we both knew that it would not be James who would have difficulty adjusting to the idea of a new brother or sister. No, it would be his parents who would have to get this settled in their minds. If we had been 20 years younger we might have been excited as young couples are wont to be. But at 41 and 48 excitement would not have been the operative word. How could we have known that James and Joan were the best "mistakes" we ever made? Life without them would be unimaginable! Of course I'll not forget the words of the Portwenn fisherman Joe Nordquist. They had eight children and he told me once, "Mate, I wouldn't take a million quid for any of 'em, but I wouldn't give a tuppence for another 'n."

"Oh yes, Martin," Louisa said. "Believe me, James will be in the middle of it. Just prepare yourself for the questions. We do have a very inquisitive little boy."

Louisa leaned on me and I put my arm around her. She looked up at me and said, "Thank you, Martin."

"What for Louisa?"

"Just thank you." And she cuddled closer as I held her even more tightly.


	8. Chapter 8

**CHAPTER EIGHT REMEMBRANCE**

** The Characters, places and situations of Doc Martin are owned by Buffalo Pictures. This story makes no claim of remuneration or ownership, nor do I make any attempt to infringe upon any rights of the owners or producers. **

**Careful - there are spoilers for Season Six Thank you for reading. I welcome your reviews and input. Martin continues reflecting on his daughter's birth. **

**CHAPTER EIGHT **

"Martin, as long as you are going to the market I am fancying some kippers. Oh and please get me a box of McVities."

_"LOUISA!"_

The first trimester of Louisa's pregnancy had gone quite well. She had very few problems with morning sickness and Mr. Smith was very pleased with her well being and the baby's development. More importantly Louisa was very pleased with him and his manner. Such a contrast to her prenatal experience with James. I hate that even came to mind. We both were so regretful of all the misunderstanding that drove our isolation from each other. I know I was overprotective this time, but it was so good to be a part of it all. So I remember that afternoon after the surgery closed. I was going to pick up food for supper. Actually Louisa was taking very good care of herself. My natural response to her request was an outburst, but her simple "Please Martin" had me returning with salt-ladened fish and chocolate biscuits.

Well into the second trimester we were sitting on the sofa with Louisa's feet in my lap. She was tired more frequently and my rubbing her feet had become a nightly occurrence. Feet are not the most beautiful part of one's anatomy, but when they are attached to one you love, to explore their soft geography is very nice. As I gently ran my thumbs the length of Louisa's instep she suddenly said,

"Martin, how in the world do you do that? It was the same with James. When I couldn't settle him, you would take him and he was instantly quiet."

"Louisa," I responded, "what in the world are you talking about? James is asleep." "

"Sure Martin but this little girl is not. She was kicking up a storm and as soon as you are massaging my feet she settles right down. Just like that! How do you do you do it?"

"Well, Louisa, we know I am very good at offending adults. Maybe putting babies to sleep is my calling. Who could have predicted that?"

When we did the 20 week ultrasound we both wanted to know the gender of our child and we learned that we were to have a daughter. A daughter! I am adjusting to being a father to a very active boy, but a daughter. What was this going to be like? Well I supposed I had a few months to adjust to the idea, and 18 or so years to figure it out.

We were tired that night, having been gone all day to Truro. It didn't help that I had only 3 hours sleep the night before due to Mrs. Alwine having a respiratory emergency. James slept all the way home and we actually put him to bed, having not even eaten supper. Thankfully we had soup from Sunday's dinner that we could heat quickly. Point being, we fell into bed early.

As I began to drift into sleep, Louisa, who was lying very close quietly said, "No question about the name of this new wee one, is there Martin?"

"No Louisa, no question. She will be our Joan. I think Auntie Joan would be chuffed to bits."

It was a pleasant thought, but really a bitter-sweet moment as Louisa and I still mourned the death of our dear Auntie Joan.

I was not very much a participant in the first pregnancy, but Auntie Joan thankfully was involved. She had been more a mother to both Louisa and me than either of our own mothers had been growing up. Upon Louisa's return from London it was natural for her to jump to her care. She brought good food and took her to Truro for her prenatal visits. When some townsfolk made snippy comments she helped her shed the hurt and isolation. In truth she helped us both. It was a time of confusion and inner conflict for me, and Joan attempted to help me come to my senses. Her words did not fall on deaf ears, though neither she nor I realized it at the time.

When Joan had died so suddenly after James' birth it was devastating to both Louisa and myself. It was difficult for me to show it, but to this day I feel her absence.

If it had not been for William and Mary Shawcross I do not know how I could have gotten through that horrible time. William was the undertaker who assisted with Joan's arrangements and burial.

I found out later that Mary had been very helpful to Louisa in advising her how to deal with a grieving, isolated and wounded man. Looking back I know I was quite horrible and insensitive. I was thinking only of myself really, but what else could I do? How in the world could I continue without Joan? This had to be what it feels like to lose one's mother.

Now and then I do visit Joan's grave in the churchyard. This is something I could not even have conceived myself doing in the past. "Dust to dust," as they say. If I end up in front of her grave I think I am simply trying to hear the words she would tell me. I never hear her speak, but I always feel better for having been there.

After the funeral and after the gathering that we had at Joan's farm, Louisa and I were driving back into town. I told her I wanted to stop briefly at the Shawcross's. She was fine with that although it was close to her needing to feed James.

I knocked on the door and Mary answered. "Hello Martin, please come in. Wouldn't Louisa like to get out of the car?"

"No, James is asleep and I just need a moment with William. Is he available?"

"Yes of course, Martin. Do sit down and I'll call him. Let me bring some tea."

"No, thank you. I can't stay. We need to get James home."

"Hello Martin." William had entered and shook my hand. "I know you must be tired. I know this is a terrible time for you. I just hope the service was alright and that we were able to be of some help."

"William, that is why I have come. I wanted to thank you for all you did. Your help has been of inestimable value."

"Well Martin, I was just doing my job."

_Just doing his job_. It was often the thing I told people if they thanked me. When one does one's work well, no extra appreciation is called for. Life demands that we do our job. But it seemed as if William, and Mary I found out later, was doing more than his job. I remember the night he asked me to come over to go over some details of the funeral. I realize now that his reason was simply to allow me to actually be in the room with Joan's body for several hours with hope that I could find some closure. He left on some lame excuse and I did not realize it but I was there thinking, even talking for over four hours, and not without some tears.

"Just doing my job. And by the way, perhaps you could drop by some evening. I could fancy a game of chess with you."

"Yes, William, we will see about that. Thank you."

It is quite interesting but William and I do play chess now and then. Some times Louisa and James come along and she and Mary visit while we play. Several times they have cared for James, allowing Louisa and me to have a break from Portwenn for an evening or for a week-end. They raised seven children so were well qualified to take care of our one little boy. James never balked when we left him with William and Mary.

As I returned to the car Louisa asked me why I needed to stop. I explained that I simply wanted to thank William for all his assistance.

"What did he say, Martin."

"Well, he said 'Just doing my job.'"

**I want to thank the following for their inestimable encouragement and help: GriffinStar, robspace54, reallybodmin, Snowsie2011, Boots1980 and Zarie Chuppins (aka my wife Suzie). You'll find Zarie in "An Interesting Man" by Portwenn Hydra.**


	9. Chapter 9

CHAPTER NINE REMEMBRANCE

**The Characters, places and situations of Doc Martin are owned by Buffalo Pictures. This story makes no claim of remuneration or ownership, nor do I make any attempt to infringe upon any rights of the owners or producers.**

** Careful - there are spoilers for Season Six Thank you for reading. I welcome your reviews and input. Martin continues reflecting on his daughter's birth. **

**CHAPTER NINE**

_"AAAIIIEEE!_ Martin, this is not false labor!"

Louisa had been having what we thought was false labor for two days. It would come and go and had no progression to it. She stayed in touch with Mr. Smith. Finally he decided that in order for her to get some rest she should take a Valium which would settle down the false labor. She had no sleep in two days and was beyond grateful when things settled down and was able to fall into a deep sleep.

I was exhausted too, having had a very busy surgery that day and two home visits

James was still awake as it was only eight o'clock. We had stories and I had hoped he would be sleepy, but no luck there. He was full of questions.

"Can I go to the hospital with you and Mummy to see the baby?"

"No, James. I have told you you will get to spend the night with Aunt Morwenna and during the day you can go visit the farm with Uncle Al."

"When will you go to the hospital?"

"Probably in a few days, James, when the baby decides it it time to be born."

"Dad, am I really going to have a sister?"

"Yes, son, you will soon have a sister. She will need you to help care for her. Will you help Mummy?"

"Yes, I will, but I don't want to see poopy nappies." "Alright James. It is time for you to go to sleep. I'll leave your night light on."

With that I kissed his forehead and told him, "You are a good boy, James." It is something I told my son every night when I tucked him in. I wanted my children to know they were loved and valued for themselves and nothing else. One night when I was leaving the room James said, "Dad, you are good too." Lying in bed later I wondered to myself if I believed it like I wanted him to believe it

Before going to bed I checked the doors. Looking out, it was a dark night and Portwenn was silent and asleep. Louisa had been wakeful for two nights with what appeared to be Braxton Hicks contractions. I did not turn on the light but the illumination from the street lamp through the window revealed Louisa with a look of peace as she slept. Once in bed, I placed my hand gently on her abdomen. It felt hard to the touch but not wanting to awaken her I did not probe further. Hopefully all was well. It did not take long for me to fall into a very sound sleep.

"AAAEEEIIIIIII!"

Louisa's scream had me sitting bolt upright and on my feet in an instant.

"THIS IS NOT FALSE LABOR MARTIN! THIS BABY WANTS OUT NOW!"

I hardly recall dressing. There was not time to wait for Morwenna so I called Mrs. Northcott who could be here until Morwenna arrived. Thankfully James stayed asleep. I put a long coat around Louisa and placed her in the back seat leaning on four pillows and secured with the seat belt.

We were finally on the way. I quickly called and alerted Charles Stewart. Louisa's pains were less than five minutes apart which was not good. She was in active labor and possibly in transition. It was 3:37 and pitch black. Thankfully the road was dry. At best we would be 40 more minutes. The call to use the Valium was one I agreed with. After all, the due date was still two weeks away. It didn't even seem the baby had dropped that much. Obviously she had. And those two days of off-and-on labor pains were a gentle harbinger of bigger things to come. I realized the Valium had masked onset of labor through the night so when Louisa awakened in pain the child was definitely knocking at the door.

"Martin!" Louisa's voice was strained and frightened. "Will we get to the hospital? I do not want to deliver this baby in a car."

"Louisa," I said as calmly as I could muster, "if I have anything to do with it we will get to hospital. It is critical that you try to relax and do not push. Try not to push."

"Martin, that is bloody easy for you to say. You do not have an elephant trying to push itself out of your body. Aaaeeeii - Ohhhhh - Martin, UHHHHHHHH!"

"I must attend to getting us safely to Truro. Please take deep breaths. I know it is hard, but do not push!"

If I could get to the A39 I could drive faster, but before that hurrying could mean we might not arrive at all. And of course of all things as I rounded a corner there were hay bales lying in the road. Some bloke had lost some of his load and just moved on. No one had notified the police. I got out and quickly started shifting enough bales to one side so we could pass. Not expecting company I nearly peed my pants when a very loud moooooo resounded close on my left. I looked and there were four bovines taking advantage of the farmer's loss. Immediately following was a very loud cry from the car. This would carry the appropriate humor later, but not now. I was quite frightened at the hold-up. With some six or seven bales moved I could get by and we were on our way.

"Martin, where did you go? Why did we stop?AHHHHH! MY GOD MARTIN, I DON'T WANT TO HAVE THIS BABY IN THE CAR. AND DON'T TELL ME THERE'S A BLOODY PUB AHEAD!"

"The road was blocked. I'm sorry. The A39 is just ahead. No one in the round-abouts at this hour."

"Don't talk Martin, just drive. Just hurry! These pains are close and hard."

We were moving again and evidently between contractions because Louisa said, "Martin, what is that terrible smell. I am going to be sick."

Holy Crap! I had stepped in fresh manure moving the damn hay. I had to stop the car and clean my shoes in the roadside grass. Then I wiped the floor with my handkerchief, tossed it and finally got us moving again.

Since asking would likely cause it, I did not even ask what else might happen.

I had stayed in touch with the doctor throughout the journey. Thus when we arrived at the A & E there was a cadre of scrubbed and masked people prepared for us. Louisa was on the trolley as we moved quickly down the hall. She was holding my hand in a vice-grip as another hard contraction came on her. She and this baby were oblivious to everything but this violent dance of creation.

"Dr. Ellingham, you know the routine. Scrubs are in there." I had to pull away and change quickly.

As I entered the theatre the doctor was laying our new-born on Louisa's chest. That was quick, I thought to myself.

"Dr. Ellingham," Charles addressed me, "I do not know why you got me out of bed. This good lady took care of things without my help. Not too many trolley births, you know. Congratulations, Martin. All seems fine. Would you like to cut the cord.?"

And it seemed the Ellingham women were to keep this night filled with shrieking. Our little girl had lungs to match her mum, which caused me to recall our son's lusty cries upon his birth at the Coach and Four maternity pub.

Once in the room, I was holding the baby while Louisa slept. I counted fingers and toes and simply stared at this tiny infant. Our daughter. I deduced that that final contraction was a final push by Louisa to bring this little one into the world. Louisa stirred and opened her eyes. She gave me a tired and beautiful smile. I took our daughter to her.

"Well, you got us to the hospital, Martin. We were cutting it a bit close, huh? There was no holding back on that trolley. So, what do you think, daddy? What do you think of our little girl?"

"Isn't she beautiful Louisa?"

"I don't know Martin. Do you think her head is a bit misshapen?"

That took me aback, and then I saw her devilish smirk and the penny dropped.

"Louisa, you are an evil woman."

"Ah, yes Martin but an evil woman who loves you. We have a new baby girl and she is beyond beautiful."

"And Martin, you are in hospital booties. Where are your shoes?"

"I had to leave them on the pavement outside. With any luck someone has binned them in the rubbish."

oooooooooooOOOOOOOOoooooooooooo

I heard my phone message signal. I looked at the screen and read, "We are back at the hotel. Very nice evening. We will talk tomorrow my love."

Having just returned from a four day conference in Plymouth I was exhausted. Glad to know Louisa and Joan were safely back to their hotel in Paris. I went to bed. Just before sleeping I reached over...and switched pillows


	10. Chapter 10

**CHAPTER TEN REMEMBRANCE**

** The Characters, places and situations of Doc Martin are owned by Buffalo Pictures. This story makes no claim of remuneration or ownership, nor do I make any attempt to infringe upon any rights of the owners or producers.**

** Careful - there are spoilers for Season Six Thank you for reading. I welcome your reviews and input.**

** It is time for Louisa to remember Joan's birth.**

** CHAPTER TEN **

"Mr. Large do you have a baby in your tummy?"

I awakened in the gray light of dawn. With our late night I did not wish to be awake. I lay in our hotel room, just inches from the serene face of my daughter as she slept. How could I have ever wished that she was not a part of me?

It was the school lunch hour and I was looking in my bottom desk drawer for some peanuts that I knew I had put there. My eye caught an unopened box of Tampax. The peanuts were behind the tampons. "Hmmmm," I suddenly wondered. "When was my last period?" It seemed like that box should have been opened and used before today. Thinking back I recalled it had been the week of the school talent program. Thinking it was no big deal, I checked my school calendar. _OK, big deal! Seven weeks ago._

I made sure there were no "ears" nearby, closed my door and called Martin. In less than an hour that November afternoon we were looking at the positive results on the wand from the pregnancy test. From the moment I looked at the calendar my emotions were in my stomach. My periods did not follow the lunar cycle. The moon follows my menstrual cycle. For all of Martin's reasons for my late period, I knew I was pregnant.

"No Martin! This just can't be. You told me an IUD is almost 100% effective. Our life is good with James Henry. This changes everything!" I felt the tears coming. "What are we going to do?"

Martin's face showed the shock I felt, but his words were absolutely clinical. In so many words he just said we would call the doctor and have a baby. Can you believe it? Call the doctor and have a baby!

In the cool light of reason, of course, that is what we would do. But desperation and not reason was reigning on my throne. I knew of course we would never terminate the pregnancy. Martin has always taken his Hippocratic Oath and respect for life seriously. His reading recently of Albert Schweitzer had confirmed those convictions. Few issues angered Martin more than a person who considered abortion a simple method of birth control.

When I met Martin his approach to life was simply "meat and potatoes." If you cannot touch it and define it, it is questionable. I supposed this is the reason he put down psychiatry and mental health treatment as psychobabble. His gradual respect for the good his Aunt Ruth did and his desperate need for counseling to resolve his own issues changed his rigidity. It is amazing that his perspective changed so much that he even encouraged James to consider psychiatry as his professional focus.

It was his friend Luk Jacobs who had him reading Albert Schweitzer. To use the word "friend of" and Martin in the same sentence is quite strange. But Luk, who was the vicar at the church in Portwenn for a time, somehow became someone Martin liked. He wanted Martin to read challenging books and they would discuss them. This has continued even with Luk in the States. So when Martin saw some of Dr. Schweitzer's books in a used book store, he bought them. He has been deeply drawn to Schweitzer's medical work and his Reverence for Life.

But back to Tuesday, November 21! Honestly, I do not know how we got through that day. It was a roller coaster of emotional outbursts: _How could this happen? We had decided. We have a good life now. Why me? We must have the fertility of rabbits. I do not want to be pregnant. I do not want to be fat and sick. Martin, I want you to say something._

How did we get through this? It was Martin! Although his emotions were as at cross-purposes as my own, his practical mind kicked in. In retrospect that was good, but at the time it seemed terribly insensitive. Martin had great respect for his colleague Charles Stewart who was an obstetrician at the Royal Cornwall Hospital. He wanted me to see him right away.

Then he said an amazing thing. For my often slow-to-catch-on husband, a truly amazing thing - he said I should call my friend Natalie Jacobs. We had become friends from the day she and her husband Luk had moved to Portwenn. Now we were more than friends. More like sisters. Although they had moved to America, we spoke by phone at least weekly. I think Martin knew our attempting to sort this out further would be futile. So I called Natalie.

"Louisa, what is wrong? Has there been a death? Are Martin and James alright?"

"Bwaaaaa Ahhhhhh. Oh Natalie. What will I do. I am preeegnaaant!"

"Louisa. Oh Louisa, that is the best news. You know I am three months along. We will do this together."

"Bwaaaaaah. No it is not the best news. Our life is good. This is a huge cock-up. We took every precaution. I have an IUD. This was not suppose to happen, Natalie!

"Louisa, I think you ought to speak in the past tense. You _had _an IUD."

"Bwaaaaaah Ahhhhh." I kept bawling.

"What? What now Louisa?"

"That is exactly what Martin said."

"Martin making a joke. There is hope for the world, Louisa. Look I know this doesn't fit life as you have planned it. Do you remember the words in the song, "Life is what happens while you are busy making other plans?"

I'll never know how our conversation was salvaged that night, but after over an hour on the phone I was far from resolved to having another child. Yet my friend would never be silly about something like this just to calm me down. Her excitement was a bit infectious and I had a sense of peace when we rang off.

I went to Martin and assured him with a hug and kiss that Natalie had settled my mind. He followed my lead and "sang me a lullaby" that allowed us both a very peaceful night.

My pregnancy went very well. I had a minimum of morning-sickness and other than a growing weariness mid-afternoon I began to enjoy the experience once I was accepting of our having another child. Martin was so kind and helpful - almost more than I could endure.

Again, enter Natalie: "Louisa, I do not want to hear one word of complaint out of you. Do you know how many women would like to be given the attention your husband is giving you?"

"But Natalie, he is my shadow. He monitors my sleep, my food; asks constantly how I am feeling."

"Have you so soon forgotten the pain of neglect and distance when you were expecting James? And you know in your heart that was mainly your fault."

"But Natalie, Martin..."

"No Louisa, we've gone over that before. Never mind the past. Open the door for Martin to be totally involved with this child! That is settled my dear friend. Now let's talk babies..."

I was over the moon that we were going to have a daughter. There was never any discussion about her name. Martin and I both knew she would carry the name and we hoped the legacy of Joan Norton, Martin's dear beloved aunt. Martin did drive me crazy at times with his playing mother hen, but he could be quite tender and emotional at times. This was most obvious when we retired with his head lying on my breast and his hand on the baby.

If the idea of a new sister was new to James Henry, dealing with a child asking about this new baby was new and carried great humor and land mines. When we told him the new baby was a girl he wondered if we couldn't just have a puppy. He wanted to know why Mummy was getting fat. We gave the common answer that it was because the baby is growing in her tummy. To our regret we didn't go just a bit deeper and use the word "womb" or "special place." Oh yes, to my great regret!

One day found James and me walking in town for some fresh air and exercise and we ran into Bert Large.

"Louisa, so nice to see you. And James Henry lad, how's my boy?"

"We're all fine Bert, thanks. How are you and Jenny?"

"Oh, just fine Louisa, Just fine. She's the best thing that ever happened to this old man."

"Mr. Bert, do you have a baby in your tummy?"

"What? What was that James?", I shockingly asked.

"You know Mummy. You are fat and a baby is in your tummy. Mr Large is fat so he must have a baby in his tummy."

My face was turning a bright red as I looked at a Bert Large laughing uproariously.

"Oh, Louisa, that boy made my day. You are a good one James. We won't soon forget this one."

I wanted to get away and did a quick leave taking. "Good to see you Bert. Give my love to Jenny."

"Sure Louisa. Sure. Regards to the Doc." He could hardly get the words out for laughing.

I was embarrassed to tears and wanted to get home. "James, how could you say something like that to Mr. Large? Mr. Large cannot have a baby." "But Mummy, you said..." And yes I had "said" and James had only worked it out logically. Back at home I thought about it and concluded that in the end no day is lost when you bring as much enjoyment to a person as James had given to Bert.


	11. Chapter 11

**CHAPTER ELEVEN REMEMBRANCE**

** The Characters, places and situations of Doc Martin are owned by Buffalo Pictures. This story makes no claim of remuneration or ownership, nor do I make any attempt to infringe upon any rights of the owners or producers.**

** Careful - there are spoilers for Season Six Thank you for reading. I welcome your reviews and input. **

**CHAPTER ELEVEN - AN INTERLUDE **

"Let's check _your _heart rate Martin."

I tried to take Natalie's advice and allow Martin to be as attentive as he wanted to be with me and the baby. At times attentiveness turned to what felt like smothering, but I tried to be patient. I really did. Outbursts were close to the surface, but I was quite proud of myself. I rarely let them break out.

Thing is, Martin thought he was being subtle but it was quite obvious. He would be holding my hand and I knew he was taking my pulse. He would hold my tummy as if to feel the baby. A bit later, here he would come with that doppler thingy to check the baby's heartbeat.

Food took us to another level altogether. He was really sweet to indulge me and bring my smoked herring and chocolate digestives. I knew he hated doing it but he did it and did not go into lecture mode. Of course the way he said, "Here are the things you asked for." was said in such a way as to not miss his feelings about the delivery of said items. Martin is a really good cook and we have good and nutritious meals. It is just that when I start growing gills I have to have some meat. I gave him the "beef is a good source of iron" pitch and he agreed to have beef at least once a week.

One night James Henry was settled and we were lying close to each other. It was sweet being close like that. We often held hands when we went to sleep and frankly I loved it. Martin is so fastidious in caring for himself. His hands are just an extension of his perfection. Whether rubbing my feet or caressing my back they are so soft and gentle. His hand held mine that night as we settled in to sleep. I felt his finger creep to my wrist. Oh, here we go again, checking my pulse. I remembered something I had always told my students. Turn a negative into a positive.

At this point I should point out a reality of pregnancy. Some women want nothing to do with love-making during that time. Erogenous zones are hands-off zones. Well I can assure you I am not in that category. During this pregnancy I have been quite frisky. With James' pregnancy I thought of myself as fat and clunky. Even in those days of non-communication Martin said, "Louisa, you are not fat. You are pregnant." Well I couldn't see the difference. But this time, while I could see this fat woman in the mirror, his comments and sincere admiration of my "pregnant beauty" as he called it overrode all. He loved me and really thought I was beautiful. How could that not melt a woman's heart...as well as other anatomical areas? Well, let me tell you, it did mine!

"Martin, perhaps it would be better if you checked for my heart rate _here_." With that I placed his hand under my gown onto my breast.

"Louisa, one cannot feel a heartbeat through adipose tissue."

There was a time when I would have taken his comment seriously because he was so clueless, but now it is not always clear. He knows I know that, and I know he may just be playing along. So I take it further.

"Well, the face is very sensitive. Perhaps if you place your _face _here you can feel a pulse." With that I pulled him to where his face was touching my other breast. He responded with a sweet nuzzle and I knew we were on the right track. Adipose tissue my foot!

"Let's check _your _heart rate Martin." With that I moved my hand south and told him, "Hmmm, what have we here? I detect a definite _"rise" _in your pulse. Oh my, I think you definitely have hardening of the arteries. This will have to be dealt with. I know Martin! You let me be the doctor and you will have to follow my prescription. I always wanted to play doctor with you."

I rolled Martin onto his back and moved to sit astride him. I leaned down and we kissed deeply. It was a wonderful long and delicious kiss. It was a kiss that painted stars in the sky and brought the fire of those stars into every fiber of our being. This was not a night for a long walk though the woods of gentle foreplay. No, this was the night when all the passion that is present through the days of living and loving come to a point of need as horses racing through a field. It is hard to imagine any two people being as close and euphoric as we were in those moments.

How we kept from awakening James Henry I will never know. We allowed the full expression of what we felt to flow freely. I just hoped the neighbors had not heard. I sat watching Martin's peaceful and spent expression. We simply looked deeply into each other's eyes.

"There. Did that fix everything? Heart beat back to normal now? Owww!"

"What, Louisa? Did I hurt you?"

"No. Oh no Martin. This baby is complaining in the only way she can. She is kicking the hell out of me for waking her up and who knows what else."

Martin moved his hand and began caressing my bump and in no time our little one settled down as did we. He took my hand again, and the three of us fell into a dreamless and peaceful sleep.

**With thanks to GriffinStar.**


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